Valiance
by Dusk Odair
Summary: Golden age AU. When Narnia is betrayed, what can its valiant queen do to save her people and preserve her life. The rating may go up for later chapters due to violence and language.
1. Prologue

**A/n:** Welcome to Valience. My first Narnian fanfiction. I'd like to thank Chloe for all her help with this one.

 **Disclaimer:** for the whole of this ludicrous tale I will never be C.S Lewis or own the rights to the chronicles of Narnia.

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 **Valience**

Prologue  
It was their first diplomatic visit. He was in Anvard for it, as there were to be parties and feasts. His mother wanted him to marry. She was never happy, was she?  
The tiny girl had caught his eye. She was wearing red, his colour. Well only a little red, the royal red piping twirled with her as she span, laughing in the arms of her dark haired brother. Her dress was as sunny as her smile.  
He offer to dance with her, an offer no lady would miss. Why, who wouldn't dance with Lord Garrion of Alvard, the fourth son of the duke? It turned out that she wouldn't. It was obvious, the girl was playing hard to get. He could see her desperate for him behind those nine year old eyes.  
He vowed to himself, that one day, that girl would be his. He was entitled to her and he would stop at nothing to get her. His mother would be pleased with him then.  
Lucy took little heed of the knight who asked her to dance as she talked to king Lune of Archenland.


	2. The Fall

**A/n:** here is chapter one. **castleOUATgreyvampblue** you have my thanks for following. And yet again, thanks to Chloe for everything

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The Fall 

It had been seven years since Lucy had first been to Archenland. The country was the strongest ally that Narnia had and she had made many friends there. Her greatest Archenlander friends were Cor, Corin and Aravis, who were the younger generation of the royal family. She was also very fond of King Lune who had taught her many things about ruling a country throughout the years she'd been on the throne.  
What grieved her was that she would not see her friends for at least another year as the twins and Aravis had gone on a voyage east to explore the Great Eastern Ocean, taking with them many of Archenland's courtiers. Another fact that troubled her was that Lune had been left alone without many of his advisers. A couple of years ago, this would have been fine, however, his quick wits were slowly leaving him as old age approached.  
It was high summer and Narnia was wild. The faun's revels often carried on till dawn, with the revellers sleeping till noon the next day. Lucy herself often joined the revels, as she did every year.  
She had grown a lot recently, enabling her to look down on her beloved Tumnus' head. This added height gave her an advantage she hadn't had before, she could throw daggers so much further, and just as straight.  
She'd discovered this fact earlier in the morning as she'd stood on the steps of Cair Paravel, aiming her knives at an apple on one of the fruit trees they'd planted a few years back. The aim, she told herself, was to see how many knives she could lodge in one apple before it fell. Her current record was three.  
Edmund had started off watching her, but had ended up playing chess with General Orieus. They were all so caught up in their activities that they barely noticed the eagle as it collapsed onto the lawn.  
The poor bird was exhausted. So exhausted it could barely deliver its message in more than a whisper, "Armed men. In Narnia. They've overrun the homes of many beasts, taking the inhabitants captive. Send help, your majesties, for they were crossing the River Rush two days hence. It is from there that I have flown." After this message was delivered, the bird closed his eyes and slept forever in Aslan's country.  
Orieus, as he was the fastest runner, ran to the high king. Reaching Peter quickly to tell him of this news and soon the war horns blew. Edmund went to call to the sleepy Narnians that war was at hand and they were needed. Lucy carried the eagle to the medic's tent by the training ground and then went to prepare for battle.  
As she strapped on her armour she wondered to whom the armed men held their allegiance and how soon it would be before they met in battle. It did occur to her for a second that the bird could have been lying, but it was better safe than sorry as Mrs Beaver always said. This wisdom, however, usually concerned dressmaking rather than going to war. Lucy smiled as she remembered her friend and hoped that the kindly animal would be alright.  
When her armour was all strapped on, she mounted her horse, and friend, Isabella. It was not long before she was riding at the head of a column of armed Narnians to greet their new uninvited guests. It was a little over a mile away that they first saw them, a swarm of dark knights racing through the trees.  
As the horns of war blew, Lucy recognised the insignias of Archenland that spelled treachery. Drawing her dagger, she pulled back her arm to throw, remembering the statement, _battles are ugly affairs_. The dagger's hilt soon protruded from the eye hole of an Archlandish helm, forcing the rider back and leaving his dumb horse free to flee in terror.  
The battle had begun properly now, with the screams of men and horses ringing through the woods. There were blurs of movement all around her as Lucy swung her sword repeatedly, too busy to keep track of the battle. Isabella fought with her forelegs, kicking out at anything she could reach.  
Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy saw Phillip, Edmund's horse, fall. Of her brother, she saw nothing.  
For at that moment she received a blow to the head that turned the world black.


	3. Bars

**A/n:** Hello, it's been an awful while and for that I am sorry. I have been procrastinating away at writing this chapter. Firstly, I made to myself the excuse that Chloe, my original beta, had exams. Then, I found myself losing motivation for the story itself but remaining in guilt. After finally rereading it today, I find myself motivated to write more. I dug out the plans (yes, this has a plan) and am ready to write. Also, I guess this is going to be good practice for my English Language GCSE tomorrow… yeah, that's going to be fun. I guess.

 **Disclaimer:** I would be madder than Diggory's uncle to claim that I owned the Chronicles of Narnia.

 **Warning:** blood (I guess)

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Bars

The sound of waves crashing violently against the shore woke Lucy. The sea was angry that night as rarely could she hear the waves so clearly from her rooms. The rhythmic bellow of the tide thudded through her ears, leaving her head to throb painfully.

Her tired eyes reluctantly fluttered open. ' _Curious'_ , she thought to herself as she lifted her head from its resting place on the rough wall, ' _where on earth am I?_ ' The crashing of the sea slowly grew muffled, and the already dim room suddenly faded once again to black.

The war-drum boom of waves woke her once more, pushing away the darkness further from her eyes. The sixteen year old girl's head was pounding; cautiously, she reached a hand up to her skull, where she felt her usually tidy hair matted and unkempt by a sticky substance that clung to her fingers. Lifting them to look, the shock of red against her pale hands widened her eyes. Gently, she lifted her face to take in her surroundings and ascertain where she was.

The walls were bare, just unornamented stone, roughly cut rocks that appeared stout and thick. Similar in a way to the walls of a castle. Light was scarce in the small room within which she was slumped. Without strong armour the wall dug into her back, causing her to shift uncomfortably and in doing so awaken a vast range of aches.

Questions remained, where was she? And on whose justice was she incarcerated? The bars on the door made her imprisonment clear. Neither of these questions had clear solutions, as but for her slender form, the cell was empty.

Leaning heavily on the wall, she rose gradually to her feet, halting her process midway to watch the room spin dizzily around her. The bloody bulge on her head pulsated with waves of pain that shook her frame, prompting her bruises and other ills to jolt uncomfortably, as she determinedly hobbled to the door. Peering between the slender bars, she started suddenly as the face of a guard stared back at her. Her eyes slid slowly down his armour, searching for a crest by which to identify the soldier.

Quickly spotting the emblem of the Archenland house of Alvard, she frowned, why would her friends' cousins lock her up? She remembered the Duchess of Alvard, a steadfast friend of Susan's, and an excellent gossip. Not one to march on an ally, really. Neither was her husband. The old Duke had a great many years and was content in his waning years, often supping with Lune himself.

She knew that they had sons, four if she remembered correctly. She'd never really met them; Cor had told her that they were a 'good sort' though, so that counted for something. The others knew them better, she presumed.

Where were her siblings when she needed them?

It was then that the screaming started.


	4. The Word of the Lord

**AN:** Yet another apology for silence. I got the exam result back though! I got an A. Tell me if I need to put the rating up.

 **Disclaimer:** I will continue to not own Narnia for as long as these traitors.

 **Warning:** Creepy ass lords, blood, mentions of torture

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The Word of the Lord

Screams echoed through the dim air of the cell, closely followed by the scent of blood. The shrill cry pierced through the murk of concussion resting on Lucy's mind and echoed in the muffled silence. Dark-faced, her guard stared unblinking at her cell's door, one side of his face flickering in distant torchlight.

The screams were unsettlingly human.

With the resounding cry, the Queen's head began to spin, walls and bars blurring. Closing her eyes granted brief respite from the storm until the symphony was interrupted by the dull thud of a well-oiled door and the quiet pad of feet on the dry floor.

The clink of chains could be heard over the torturous cacophony of pained screams and dungeon clatter. Opening her eyes, the shock of ditch-water eyes hovering inches from her face hit her. Her guard was inside.

The traitor. For the first time in years Lucy felt dangerously close to distraught tears. They had been betrayed. Betrayed by the kin of friends. Who was it that one could trust, if not their friends?

The crash of the sea filled her ears, carrying with it the haunting lament of the merfolk. Betrayed. Unpitying eyes stared upon her, unmarred face filled with greed. Traitor. Snake lips twisted into a triumphant smile as callused hands reached for her own.

Bruised aches came with the forced movement. Scratches littered her arms and hands, stinging as metal chains embraced them, clutching far too tight for her liking. He did not let go of her small hands.

The hands were warm and strong, manacles in their own way. Lifting her eyes from her hands, Lucy started as he leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Marry me, Queen. I'm incredibly fond of your sister's screams."

Susan screamed again, in piercing discord with the woeful song of the sea folk. Lucy's blood ran colder when she heard Edmund's worried cry of "Sue!" followed by the sharp sound of skin hitting skin. Then silence.

"What say you, my Lady?" the snake was speaking again, twisting the honorific with venom. "Marry me, or live with the screams?"

The song of the sea rose to an eerie swell. The hands began to slide over bruised flesh. Lucy's breath caught in fear as she muttered, "never. Never a traitor.''

The hands clamped tight once more, irritating the damaged flesh of her slender waist. Looking her straight in the eyes, her captor breathed, "a little persuasion then." before striding from her cell, leaving the young queen once again alone with her fear.

Once again there was silence in the tiny locked room.

Silence for Aslan knows how long.

The silence was worse.

A scream echoed through the walls once more, lower than Susan's and more guttural. Edmund. They were torturing Edmund and it was her fault. She could hear every blow, see the flickers in the torchlight, and hear his pained grunts.

Something heavy slammed into the wall of her cell. There was laughter followed by fading footsteps, leaving her once again with lonely silence.

Even the sea was quiet.

She heard no more from her siblings as she stood, silent in the centre of the small room, shocked and afraid. Despair finally took hold as reality set in and the floor became wet with tears.

Broken hiccups from scared sobbing filled the air.

All else was silent.


	5. Shadows in the Hallway

**A/n:** it has been seven months since I last updated this, and for that I apologise. I now present to you my longest chapter to date. _**Please tell me if I need to put the rating up**_. This story will get let violent in a bit, I promise.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Narnia, Aslan does.

 **Warnings:** blood, torture mentions, creepy ass lords, inference of rape and other nasty stuff.

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Shadows in the Hallway

Time passed unnoticed, seeming as though hours had passed in the gloom. Through the walls the sea boomed. Wretched sobs echoed through the halls. The blank eyes of another guard peered through the bars.

Lucy sat on bare stone, stained red, and damp with her tears. Susan was crying too. Lucy knew her tears far too well. Lucy wondered if her sister had been made the same offer. The idea of marriage had never appealed to Lucy as much as it had to Susan. Given the chance, Susan would accept the offer to save her siblings and her country. Susan had always looked after them.

Based on the lack of freedom, Lucy decided that Susan had not been made the offer. It was down to her to save them. Cor and Aravis were not due to return to Archenland for nigh on a month. There was to be no salvation from their friends.

The merfolk no longer sang beyond her wall. In the sorrowful silence, Susan's sobbing was deafening. Lucy had heard nothing from Peter. She would have felt something if he was dead, wouldn't she? They had been promised a golden age while the four thrones were filled. If Peter's now lay empty, what would become of Narnia?

Marrying the traitor would hopefully set Susan and Edmund free, but what would happen then? The traitor would have marriage rights over a part of Narnia. Currently, there was hope for his removal, but if they were to be married, it would be for life.

From a distance, the quiet thud of footsteps carried down the corridor, Lucy supposed her cell must be at the end. With the footsteps came the scrape of something being dragged along behind. Eventually, the footsteps stopped. Then came the jangle of keys and the squeak of a door. There was a heavy thud as something was dropped. Then the door slammed and the footsteps receded.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. A small eternity seemed to pass before the silence was broken by Susan's shaking voice, asking, "Pete, are you…", before she was cut off with the sound of skin hitting skin.

Susan's sobbing resumed harder.

She had no idea if it had been Peter that her sister had called to.

Lucy stared at the blood on the floor and thought of marriage. She had barely glanced at her new guard other than to check that she was safe from the rat from before. Her new guard was slighter than the previous one, he was much shorter too. This she noted when she looked up, finished perusing her spilt blood. His face remained in shadow, barely visible in the flickering light from the distant torch.

Seconds seemed to be hours as Lucy sat, head bowed, in her congealed blood. Her body ached still, the ghosts of the guard's hands remained on her waist.

If she married him, she was trapped.

If she didn't, her siblings would suffer.

Aslan had named her Valiant. How could she be Valiant here?

The silence was worse than the screams. At least when her siblings screamed, she knew they were alive.

Edmund had been silent for a long while.

Heavy booted footsteps approached. Involuntarily, the young Queen shivered. Lifting her head, he watched as a long, flickering shadow drew closer to her door. It had come for her.

Pulling herself slowly to her weary feet, Lucy braced herself against the wall. The dead, ditch-water eyes appeared from the flickering gloom into the darkness of her cell.

"What say you now, Lady?" He spat, creating an insult out of the epithet. "Are you selfish enough to bear the screams that you could so easily prevent? Have you been swayed by the cries of your treacherous brother? I can always make him scream some more."

She tried not to shudder visibly, to hide her disgust. She failed, and his eyes sparked dangerously.

Looking up, she asked, "What do you want from us? What have we done?"

"I desire to own your hand, Lady. I vow to grasp your heart and squeeze it until you acquiesce to my desires."

As he had spoken, he had once again restrained her hands inside of his. Thus trapping her in his iron fist. It was likely that even at full strength she would be unable to break his hold.

Snatching her towards him, he leaned towards her face. She could feel his hot breath on her mouth. He was too close. Struggling to get away, she pulled at her hands desperately. She could not move.

In retaliation, he shoved her backwards, pinning her against the rough masonry. She felt the blood from her head injury resume its flow as her head smacked against the wall.

Her head span.

All she could see was his face.

The bruises littering her body screamed at the impact.

Involuntarily, she let out a gasp of pain.

His snake-lips pressed up to hers, before he leaned back and demanded her answer.

Immediately, she denied him by instinct.

With one hand he then released her. The other held her still.

With much jangling, he connected her shackles to bolts in the wall, completely restricting her movements. She was now at his mercy.

She was terrified.

Reaching behind him, the traitor unhooked a small flask from his belt.

He pulled the cork from the small bottle. After which he pinched her nose.

Her mouth opened and he poured the vile liquid into her mouth, before pushing her jaw closed and holding it there.

She had no choice but to swallow the concoction. Whatever it was.

After a minute or so, he let go and departed the cell, leaving her chained to the wall as her blood ran down her neck.

It was ten minutes later that Susan's screaming started.

From her brothers, there was nothing.


End file.
